


If You Can't Leave It Be

by truejaku (hereonourstreet)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Breathplay, Choking, Daddy Kink, Drugs, M/M, Masturbation, Morphine Mizuki, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:24:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereonourstreet/pseuds/truejaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz wants to Rhyme with the legend called Sly Blue, but instead he accidentally befriends him and Mizuki. Well, Noiz considers it "befriending," at least. Noiz's standards for friendship are fairly low, and Aoba and Mizuki know how to take advantage of that.</p><p>An AU I suppose in which Aoba never switches back from Desire to Reason and Mizuki defects Dry Juice to Morphine while Noiz still trolls around trying to Rhyme with Sly Blue. Four chapters. Includes mostly Morphine!Mizuki/Sly Blue/Noiz interactions, but Vitri will appear. I'll update the tags as I go but it WILL include smut, alcohol/drugs, and probably Not Happy Psychological things in general. Please don't laugh at my terrible titles. (I should also point out I planned this out before I read Re:code so if Morphine Mizuki is not like he is in Re:code, it's because I hadn't read it yet!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aoba Seragaki could probably destroy the world and everyone would worship him for it. Mizuki is the one who could put it back together, but would simply refuse.

            The first time Noiz approached Aoba, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t what he got.

            He hears the name Sly Blue thrown around in the streets, on sidewalks, mostly in the South District. He knows Sly Blue is the best in the game right now. He knows people consider Sly Blue dangerous: a boy who somehow crushes his opponents quite literally, both in body and in mind. It must be an intense amount of pain, what he does to his challengers, to land them in the hospital so easily.

            That appeals to Noiz.

            If coming to Midorijima solely for Rhyme wasn’t Noiz’s entire motivation for fighting the best of the best, landing himself in the hospital is a close second.

            Noiz knows Sly Blue is infamous for his winning streak, but aside from that, he’s also infamous simply for being who he is. He’s the sort of person whose reputation precedes him, and it’s hard to tell if he gives a shit about that or not. The streets are always full of whispers uttering his name and he walks through those murmurs as if he’s deaf to them, which he probably is. He seems too disengaged to give a shit if anyone is talking about him. He seems so disengaged that Noiz is envious. He wants to detach like that, too.

            Noiz knows Sly Blue is _desirable_ , if only because he seems every bit the arrogant kid who simultaneously cares too much about Rhyme _and_ not enough; and the only thing that people want more than to watch a cocky kid get knocked down a peg or two is to be the person to do it. It doesn’t hurt that he’s pretty, either. Noiz hears a lot of rumors of his sexual history but he’s never seen anything to suggest any of it’s true, which only adds to his mystique.

            Noiz knows Sly Blue is actually Aoba Seragaki, a blue-haired boy who’s just a few years older than him and lives with his grandmother, though he rarely goes home to her anymore. Noiz doesn’t stalk him of course; he’s just a fly on the wall. Flies on walls tend to notice things, like blue-haired boys being picked up routinely by two blond-haired creeps after Rhyme matches and shuffled off to some mysterious warehouse just outside Platinum Jail.

            Maybe he stalks him a little.

            Maybe that’s how he knows where he’ll be on a random Tuesday night, and maybe that’s how he manages to get him alone in the few minutes he has before those two guys come around to pick him up. He’s standing in an alley, wiping blood from his gums with the back of his hand. He’s wincing. He’s not as strong as he likes to pretend he is.

            Noiz turns the corner to face him, but Aoba doesn’t notice him. He kicks the dumpster to his right and Aoba jumps a bit. He turns around swiftly and scowls as soon as his eyes land on Noiz.

            “What?” he spits. Noiz puts his hands in his pocket. He fingers his brass knuckles; just to make sure they’re there.

            “Rhyme me.”

            Aoba stares at him for a moment.

            “Could you speak up?” he drawls. “Can’t hear you.”

            _“Rhyme me_ ,” Noiz says boldly, lifting his head slightly and making direct eye contact. Aoba chuckles.

            “You wanna Rhyme me?”

            “Yeah,” Noiz nods once. Aoba’s shoulders relax as he closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lap up the rest of the blood from around his lip. He tilts his head up and rolls one shoulder around in discomfort. He’s wearing the same jacket Noiz always sees him in and a white shirt underneath. It’s when he sees the blood on his chest that Noiz realizes this blood can’t be from Rhyme. Something else happened to him in the time between his last Rhyme match and now. Noiz can only imagine what.

            “Too tired,” he says suddenly, and Noiz’s head snaps up in surprise. Aoba turns to leave and Noiz watches him disappear around the corner.

            Something about the way he massaged his shoulder under his jacket. Something about the way he closed his eyes. Something about the way he said those last two words, so genuinely, so authentically: not at all to be funny or to put on the show of the too-cool-for-all-this-but-you-shits-sure-love-watching-me pretty boy that Aoba seems to be. Aoba really was tired. Aoba really wanted to get out of there.

            Maybe Aoba wasn’t really the legend Noiz thought he was.

            Still, the statistics don’t lie. Aoba is the best around and Noiz wants to fight him.

            Noiz goes home that night to check with his Ruff Rabbit contact if there’s any new information on Sly Blue. There’s not, and his contact asks him why he’s so interested in him anyway. It’s not like he’s that hard to find and talk to, and Ruff Rabbit is meant to be primarily for finding out where Usui’s locations will be, not stalking random Rhymers he wants to fuck. Noiz blocks him and goes to bed early. He’ll unblock him in the morning, as usual.

            The second time Noiz approaches Aoba, he’s a little more talkative. He uses the same method: he finds him alone on the street and looks him right in the eye.

            “Rhyme me,” he says. Aoba rakes his eyes over him a few seconds, trying to place him. He has a small smile on his lips that widens once he seems to place him.

            “You’re back?”

            “Yeah,” Noiz says. “Rhyme me.”

            “Hm,” Aoba hums, chewing his bottom lip and turning to face him. He opens his entire body to him, hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets and looking him over. Noiz would shrink away from the scrutiny if he weren’t so determined to Rhyme with him. “You’re kinda young.”

            Noiz rolls his eyes.

            “Not the youngest here.”

            “So? Just because there are younger doesn’t make you old enough.”

            “I run Ruff Rabbit,” Noiz tells him. “I’m not a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

            Aoba squints slightly as he licks his lip and looks him over again. He’s still smiling: faintly, mockingly, as if he’s amused by all this. Noiz looks at the ground and stuffs his hands in his pockets again. He’s not nervous. He just doesn’t like people studying him.

            Aoba hums finally. Noiz glances up to see him frowning.

            “Nah,” he says. “I take Rhyme too seriously to fight kids. Bye.”

            Aoba turns slowly and walks away. Noiz watches as he disappears into a crowd of people. He searches the throng for those two tall, yellow-haired guys, but he doesn’t see them. He wonders how Aoba vanished so easily and goes home.

            He asks his contact about Sly Blue again. This time he simply says no and that he’ll let him know if anything pops up on his radar. Noiz blocks him again and goes to bed, but instead of falling asleep, he lays in bed and runs his fingernails down his dick, imagining Aoba naked and on his knees, cum-covered and laughing like a maniac. Aoba could probably suck a hundred dicks in one night and still want more.

            Noiz never put much stock in that – that Aoba was as much of a slut as the rumors said he was – but he figures it’s worth a shot the third time he finds himself alone with him.

            “Rhyme me and I’ll suck your dick,” he says, pivoting to cut him off as he’s walking down the sidewalk late on a Saturday night. Aoba stops in his tracks, wide-eyed and startled. When he seems to finally remember Noiz again, and registers what he said, he rolls his eyes and pushes by him with his shoulder.

            “Fuck off,” he mutters.

            “You can suck _my_ dick,” Noiz offers.

            Aoba’s shoulder tense upwards in frustration and he pauses again. He turns around and takes the few steps back toward Noiz to close the gap between them. He has his hands in his jacket pockets but he isn’t fucking around.

            “I said _fuck. Off.”_

His nose is inches from Noiz’s and Noiz can count every eyelash. He really is pretty.

            “We can do whatever you want,” he shrugs. “I’m down for anything. As long as you Rhyme me afterward.”

            Aoba scoffs and takes a step back. He smiles incredulously and kicks the pavement.

            “You wanna tell me you take Rhyme seriously and then try to trade sex for it? You wanna tell me you’re not immature and then offer to suck my dick? At this point I’m saying no just because you annoy me.”

            Noiz watches him walk away a third time, and this time he blocks his Ruff Rabbit contact without even starting a conversation. He eats an entire pizza in bed and stares at the wall, wondering what it would be like to go out with Aoba. He’d probably be a riot. He’d probably harass the waiter and tease Noiz for putting out on a first date. He’d probably talk about philosophy or existentialism. Something about him makes Noiz want to sell all his belongings and sleep in a field every night.

            Aoba Seragaki could probably destroy the world and everyone would worship him for it.

            The fourth time Noiz meets Aoba Seragaki, there’s another boy with him. Noiz didn’t notice him at first. He emerges from the shadows like a fucking horror movie and Noiz’s eyes dart to him, his mouth hanging open like a trout, in the middle of the same words as always: _“Rhyme me—”_

“Is this the annoying boy you’re always telling me about?”

            The other boy is dark-skinned and handsome and Noiz is immediately enamored by his tattoos, a teardrop on his cheek and a tag on his throat, covering up a previous design. He looks dangerous in his simple black jacket, zipped to his chest and his hood up. His hair is so long and messy that it still pokes out from under it and Noiz wonders how he can even see. Aoba didn’t intimidate him the way this boy does.

            “Yeah,” Aoba mutters, shrugging a shoulder and turning away from both of them. Noiz watches him. He’s far too distant to be bothered by any of this, but this new boy isn’t. This new boy isn’t too cool. He approaches Noiz readily and looks him up and down.

            “Well,” he says cheerfully, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “You didn’t tell me he was _cute_.”

            Noiz looks away quickly. He tries not to give himself away. He shuffles in place and rolls his eyes, hoping it isn’t too obvious that he’s absolutely floored. He doesn’t know what to say. He practically prays that this boy is being serious, that he might actually be interested in him in any way. It’s been a long time since someone complimented him even condescendingly. Even if he’s just interested in a few quick fucks, Noiz would be ecstatic. He tries to seem aloof. He’s not sure he’s doing it well.

            Aoba, on the other hand, perks up. First he scowls at the other boy, then kicks himself away from the wall he has his foot propped against and finds his place beside him, once again sizing Noiz up so harshly that Noiz thinks he might break out into a nervous sweat. Aoba smiles.

            “Maybe I didn’t notice it until you pointed it out just now,” he says, his voice so sweet it’s sickening but Noiz doesn’t care. He wants the attention.

            “Hm,” the other boy purrs, stroking his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and Noiz almost melts. “You want to Rhyme with Aoba?”

            Noiz has to find his voice. He glares at the boy and nods. Rhyme has become an afterthought at this point. He just wants to get out of here alive – he thinks.

            “Yeah.”

            “You want to Rhyme me, too?” the boy asks. Aoba tries to stifle his laughter. Noiz squints.

            “Who are you?”

            “Who am I?” the boy scoffs, gesturing toward his own chest. Aoba can’t contain his laughter anymore. “I’m Mizuki.”

            “No one cares who you are, Mizuki,” Aoba mutters, genuine laughter spilling from his lips. It’s jarring to see him laugh so fully; it’s like watching a dog walk on its hind legs. Cute, but a little bizarre. Even more daunting is knowing that there is someone who is close enough to Aoba to make him laugh like this, and that he’s right here, and that his name is – 

            _Mizuki_. Noiz has heard that name before, but he doesn’t remember where. It must not matter. He shrugs.

            “Are you any good?” he asks. Aoba has to throw an arm on Mizuki’s shoulder to prop himself up as he guffaws. Noiz might explode from humiliation. He has no idea why they’re laughing at him. He wants to disappear.

            “Nah,” Mizuki smiles as he shoves Aoba off him roughly. Aoba stumbles a few feet away. “I’m Rib, not Rhyme. I just let Aoba hang out with me when I’m feeling sorry for him.”

            Aoba is wiping fake tears away and Noiz feels so small that he could probably just shrink away and vanish. He could move back to Germany. That almost seems better than this. It’s time to get out of here. Something tells him they won’t care much if he just walks away right now.

            “Cool,” Noiz mutters. He puts his hands in his pants pockets as usual and finds his brass knuckles again. “See you.”

            He turns to go, expecting more laughter and a few jeers, maybe a couple of kissing sounds as he walks away, but instead he gets a very concerned Mizuki shouting at him.

            “Wait! Where are you going?”

            He stops and turns his head back. He looks Aoba straight in the eye, who seems less than worried about whether Noiz stays or goes. Noiz doesn’t know how to answer, so he simply shrugs.

            “Stay,” Mizuki tells him. He turns around fully to look at Mizuki again. He’s really just as pretty as Aoba. Noiz wonders how they know each other. Maybe they kiss sometimes. Noiz would like to see that. “You wanna come hang out with us?”

            Noiz looks to Aoba again, hoping to pick up some sort of cue from him. He doesn’t react whatsoever. His eyes are dead. Noiz glances back to Mizuki.

            “Sure.”

            Mizuki grins. Noiz knows he’s in trouble, but as usual, he can’t bring himself to care.

            They take him to the North District. Noiz would protest if he felt like he could; at this point he’s not sure saying anything at all would be wise. Mizuki is all hands, a stark contrast to Aoba’s indifference, though he’s not overindulgent and Noiz finds himself enjoying just how much Mizuki touches him. They’re small gestures, like shoulder nudges and playful pokes to the side. It’s not like Noiz can feel it anyway, but he likes knowing that Mizuki is willing to touch him at all. Aoba is always five steps away from them, silent and brooding, but Mizuki likes to talk. He asks Noiz where he’s from, but he doesn’t answer, which Mizuki finds amusing. He puts his arm around him and whispers in his ear that he doesn’t have to tell; sometimes the mystery is the best part. Noiz doesn’t know what that means, but it makes him shiver.

            He does get out of him that he runs Ruff Rabbit, that he’s nineteen, and that he’s not Japanese – Mizuki’s not full Japanese either he tells him, though Noiz isn’t sure what to do with that information. In fact, most of the information Mizuki tells him seems superfluous. Mizuki likes to ramble, though it doesn’t feel like he’s doing it because he thinks Noiz is listening. It seems like he’s talking just to hear himself, or just to intimidate and confuse Noiz. And Noiz _is_ intimidated and confused, so apparently it’s working. He’s also listening, in all honesty. He’s listening to Mizuki’s every word. He hangs on to them desperately, as they’re the only words he’s been told in such a long time, and even if they’re fake and meaningless, they’re being said _to him_ , by _another human_ , and they’re not about Rhyme or food or money. They’re nonchalant conversation. They’re casual and they’re friendly and they’re his weakness.

            The three finally reach a large, warn-down building that looks like an old warehouse that’s fallen into disrepair – it’s the building the two blond guys take Aoba to sometimes. Most of the buildings in the North District are fairly dilapidated so Noiz isn’t surprised. He’s fairly sure that other Rib team he’s been warned so much about runs out of here too – the one made up of criminals. Scratch or Scrap or Snitch or Shit or whatever it’s called. The tattoo on Mizuki’s neck seems to be tag art, and it’s not the rainbow that Noiz knows Scratch-Scrap-Snitch-Shit uses, so he assumes that this isn’t their headquarters. Still, Aoba and Mizuki could be criminals and Noiz wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

            Mizuki opens the door for him and ushers him inside.

            “Guests first,” he says with a smile. Noiz hesitates, and then walks inside alone against his better judgment. It’s pitch black so he steps to the side to let the other two in, and Mizuki flips on the lights to reveal a fairly dingy but normal-looking room; a few couches and a pretty nice kitchen. It’s small, and there’s a set of stairs that lead downwards to the right, and a door off to the left side, on the opposite wall. Aoba immediately heads down the stairs and Mizuki points the way.

            “Our room is downstairs,” he tells him, the same grin on his face as he lets him go first. Noiz scowls and follows Aoba down. There’s another door at the bottom, and Aoba opens it to let Noiz in.

            Their room is sort of small – Noiz assumes it’s their room at least, because the first things he sees are two beds, big but worn, both with a few blankets and a couple pillows strewn across them. There’s another refrigerator between them and there’s a loveseat up front, placed precariously close to a large television. The floor is covered with junk: empty bottles and game controllers mostly, but also the odd article of clothing, mostly hoodies. Noiz again steps to the side to let Mizuki through and stands awkwardly by the landing. Now that he’s here, he’s not entirely sure what to do. It smells nice, if a little musty, like they burn candles far too often. There’s a door off to the left that’s open wide and leads to the bathroom, though he can’t see much of it with the lights off. Mizuki pats him on the back suddenly and he sort of jumps at the sudden touch.

            “Come hang out,” Mizuki grins, sliding his hand down Noiz’s back as he walks to the refrigerator to pull out three – beers? Noiz’s throat goes dry. He doesn’t really drink, since it further numbs his already failing sense of touch, but he really doesn’t want them to know that about him for some reason. Mizuki approaches him with the beer so Noiz sticks his hand out to take it as the older boy walks by on his way to Aoba, who’s already firmly planted himself on the floor in front of the television. He has a controller in his hand as he waits for his console to boot up and Mizuki takes a seat on the couch.

            Noiz stares at the foreign object in his hand until he sees Aoba unscrew the cap with just his palm and then he does the same. He drops the cap on the floor, since they don’t seem to be too big into cleanliness, and stares at the label. The worst part is that he understands the words – he can _read_ them – but he doesn’t know what the fuck they mean. It’s definitely beer but he doesn’t know what _Super Dry_ is supposed to indicate, so he sniffs it. Why do people drink this stuff? It smells awful, but he really, _really_ doesn’t want to be the odd one out, so he finally touches it to his lips cautiously and tips his head back.

            Probably the worst thing he could have done was tried to sip it slowly. He just barely chokes back a cough, though he feels like retching. He uses the back of his hand to cover his mouth and wipe the excess drool off – and then he hears Mizuki giggle.

            He looks over to see him staring. He’s probably been watching him this whole time. Shit. Noiz is so obviously out of his element but he _doesn’t want him to know_. If they find out he’s – not normal, they might not want to hang out with him anymore.

            “It’s just Asahi,” he tells Noiz, his grin still wide as ever. “Or do you not drink beer?”

            “It’s fine,” Noiz mutters, as he takes another drink. Fuck, it’s so awful. Aoba has his hanging from his mouth, a straight line pointing down to the floor as he selects something on the screen. Once he’s done, he grips the bottom and slams it back, and Noiz’s eyes go wide as he chugs it all down at once. He lets out a loud sigh of pleasure as he pops it out of his mouth and Noiz thinks he might be getting hard just from watching that.

            “He does that all the time,” Mizuki rolls his eyes. Noiz looks at him as he leans forward, patting the couch next to him. “Come sit with me.”

            It’s a tiny couch, but Noiz doesn’t mind so much at the moment. It means Mizuki touches him more, though the _real_ party would start if Aoba was up here too, but he is, of course, far more interested in playing games than sitting next to Noiz or drinking beer or talking to Mizuki. For the most part, Mizuki keeps rambling about Rhyme and Rib and how he much prefers Rib and how Rhyme is actually quite stupid and Noiz doesn’t say a fucking word. Noiz likes Rhyme, but he doesn’t feel quite as much its protector as Mizuki seems to feel about Rib, so he lets him shit on it all he wants. He hangs on to every word, just in case Aoba responds, just in case he manages to find a way to bring up a Rhyme match, just in case either one of them end up wanting to Rhyme him. They don’t. Aoba stays quiet. Aoba doesn’t give a shit.

            Mizuki tells him that Aoba doesn’t even really live here. This is a place for his Rib team, the name of which he never reveals. He tells him that Aoba isn’t on his Rib team obviously, but the “two fucks I kind of work for love Aoba’s dick, so they let him stay as much as he wants.” And it’s fine by him, he says, because Aoba’s his best friend. He kicks Aoba in the back of the head and ruins his game as he says it, which is when Aoba throws a beer bottle perilously close to his head. Mizuki cackles and Noiz’s heart starts to race. Do they do that kind of thing a lot? That’s dangerous.

            “Anyway, Aoba’s alright for a Rhymer, so I let him stay here,” Mizuki concludes. Aoba scoffs, as if that’s untrue, but doesn’t reply. “I tell him he should join my Rib team, but he’ll never listen. Woe is me.” He traces a fake tear down his cheek with an exaggerated frown; just over the real tear tattooed on his face. Noiz follows his slender finger down to his chin and then nods in acknowledgement.

            “Another?” Mizuki asks, pointing at Noiz’s bottle. Noiz frowns.

            “I haven’t finished this one.”

            “Well, drink up,” he says as he rises from the couch to get another beer. He grabs two from the fridge and Noiz tries to chug back as much as he can all at once while still remaining indiscreet about it. It’s not hard; he just opens his throat like he does when he’s deep throating and he finds it’s not all different. Mizuki puts Aoba’s bottle on the floor next to him, but Aoba never reaches for it.

            “Anyway,” Mizuki says as he retakes his seat next to Noiz. “A lot of people are interested in Aoba. You’re not alone. Did you know that?”

            “Yeah,” Noiz mumbles. He’s grateful that the beer is at least helpful for distracting his mouth when he doesn’t want to answer. Mizuki smiles and leans into him.

            “So why are you so interested in Rhyming him?” he asks.

            Noiz takes another long sip. He doesn’t want to tell him the truth.

            “Wanna see if he’s as good as he says he is.”

            Aoba doesn’t react whatsoever. He can’t possibly be _that_ into his game. Maybe he really is just this cool and detached.

            “Oh,” Mizuki nods. He scoots closer to Noiz – so close that his left knee is touching Noiz’s hip and his right foot is on the ground, practically playing footsie with him. “Well, he is. He’s really that good. But since I’m his friend, I do know his one weakness.”

            “Yeah?” Noiz asks, hoping that his interest will shake Aoba from his game.

            It doesn’t.

            “I do,” Mizuki says, his voice lowering to an almost seductive tone. “You wanna know what it is?”

            Noiz swallows hard and bores a hole into the back of Aoba’s head. _Fucking care, for fuck’s sake._

“Yeah,” he says. “Tell me what Aoba’s weakness is.”

            Mizuki’s lips graze Noiz’s ear in a way he wasn’t expecting. It’s not that he can feel it, but he can hear Mizuki’s breathing and see how close his face is out of the corner of his eye. Noiz turns into him just slightly out of surprise, and inhales a sharp breath. Mizuki bites the bottom of his ear and he almost drops his beer bottle.

            “Aoba’s weakness... is a good, hard dicking.”

            Noiz’s breath hitches. He tries to move his pupils to stare at Mizuki without moving his head, but it’s impossible. He doesn’t know if Aoba could hear that. He doesn’t know if Mizuki’s trying to start some weird threesome here or not, but he truly hopes he is. A little moan escapes Noiz’s throat when he hears Mizuki’s breath against his ear again, and just when he thinks they’re about to fuck right here, right here on the fucking couch, Aoba’s back to them the entire time, as if he’s dead to the entire world except his fucking video game – Mizuki laughs.

            He guffaws into Noiz’s ear, and then presses his forehead against his cheek. He slaps his back with the same hand he has his beer in and Noiz can hear the liquid slosh up and out of the bottle, even if he can’t feel it slide down his shirt. Mizuki was joking. It was a joke. He’s – ribbed him, for lack of a better term.

            Like friends do.

            “I’m just kidding!” he shouts, nuzzling his head against Noiz’s face before pulling away. He looks red in the cheeks, and Noiz rolls his eyes at him. He downs the rest of his beer as Mizuki kicks Aoba in the back again and tells him what he said. Aoba shakes him off with his shoulder.

            “I fucking heard you, you piece of shit,” Aoba mutters. “You do this every time. It’s not as funny as you think.”

            “He hates that joke,” Mizuki says, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “But it’s definitely a joke. Aoba’s weakness is not a hard fuck.”

            He puts his hand on Noiz’s knee suddenly. Noiz freezes.

            “It’s mine.”

            Noiz watches his hand for a moment, willing it to travel higher, up to his thigh. It doesn’t. He only squeezes his knee, and then Noiz turns his head to meet his gaze. He’s grinning again, but this time it’s far more genuine than before. It’s a smaller smile, not all teeth and puffed-up cheeks like he does when he’s trying to intimidate. His eyebrows are slightly raised and he’s staring Noiz down pointedly.

            This one isn’t a joke.

            Aoba Seragaki could probably destroy the world and everyone would worship him for it. Mizuki is the one who _could_ put it back together, but would simply refuse.

            Noiz isn’t sure how to answer him. But he doesn’t have to.

            There’s a knock on the door and Aoba pauses the game immediately and scrambles up from the floor to answer it. Mizuki’s hand is still on Noiz’s knee as Aoba opens the door just barely and lets himself slip out for a few seconds. When Noiz looks at Mizuki, he’s scowling in a way he hasn’t seen before. He looks just as genuinely annoyed right now as he was genuinely smiling just seconds ago.

            Is Mizuki in love with Aoba?

            Aoba pokes his head back in for just a fraction of a second.

            “We have to go,” he says to Mizuki, who growls from the back of his throat. Then he turns to Noiz and says, so simply, so easily: “Bye.”

            Mizuki gets up and kicks the television off with his foot, then knocks Aoba’s full beer bottle over in frustration. Noiz stares at him wide-eyed. Apparently it’s time to go.

            “I’ll walk you out,” he says, his voice still dripping with anger but eyes sort of soft and honest as he looks at Noiz. He stands up to follow him out –

            And wobbles once he’s on his feet.

            Oh no. He’s never been drunk before. He wasn’t sure he could _get_ drunk. He’s not sure what being drunk is supposed to feel like, or if he’s feeling everything correctly, but his head is definitely spinning a bit. Not like when he gets headaches – his headaches usually have to be migraines for him to feel the pressure pressing against his skull. This is a lot lighter. Nicer. He kind of likes it.

            “Drunk already?” Mizuki smiles. He seems genuinely amused as he sticks his arm out and Noiz lets him wrap it around his lower back as he guides him upstairs and back to the main door. Noiz wants to ask who was at the door and where Aoba’s gone, but he supposes he should stay quiet. Mizuki might not ask him back if he’s too nosy.

            “See you,” Noiz says as he opens the door. He steps out, but is quickly pulled backwards by his shirt.

            “Give me your Coil.”

            Noiz furrows his brows as he turns to stare at him.

            “…What?”

            “Let me see your Coil, asshole.”

            He sort of likes it when Mizuki insults him. It kind of turns him on. He unwraps his Coil from his wrist and hands it to the older boy. He watches a screen pop up and Mizuki goes to his contacts, then plugs his number in and hands it back to him.

            “Call me. Maybe next time we’ll both get drunk.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mizuki seems to want him in a way no one else ever has, like he’s not just trying to get his dick wet. He’s trying to get off, because Noiz makes him _want_ to get off. Noiz wants to get off, too -- and he really hopes Aoba is watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **cw** some forced kisses, drugs/alcohol, peer pressure lmao honestly tho don't read if you don't like some more aggressive sexual advances and mature sexual content like that idk how to warn for it really im sorry

            The past week has been a sort of anxious one for Noiz, which is unusual. He’s never felt quite so eager for something quite so simple. People have told him that he comes off as apathetic and self-involved, and to be fair, he is. He’s never done well with deadlines and schedules. If someone gave him a date to call back at, he’d make sure it was obvious that he didn’t care. If someone asked him to “get back to them,” he’d often ignore them completely. What was the point? Most people didn’t actually care if they ever heard from him again. And it’s not like anyone ever tried to call _him_ , not unless he owed them something. So what did he care?

            But this was carefully orchestrated.

            He didn’t want to seem every bit the childish schoolboy he actually is, so he waited seven days before calling Mizuki back. Maybe he should have waited eight – or nine. Maybe a week _seems_ planned. Exactly one week – that sounds like a schedule. That sounds like he knew what he was doing.

            In any case, Mizuki didn’t seem to notice.

            He didn’t know who Noiz was at first, but when he finally placed him, a grin spread across his face and he invited him down to the East district, and Noiz agreed. He didn’t know the exact location Mizuki was describing, but he knew it was more public than their weird, musty room in the North district, so he had plenty of time to get out of this whole mess if it looked like Mizuki was about to murder him.

            But when he gets there, Mizuki seems hardly capable of snapping his fingers, much less murder. It looks like he’s incapable of anything, really. Noiz watches him for a few moments, staring up at an old building as a few people bustle around him. He doesn’t even know they’re there. There’s a small smile on his face; a smile unlike anything Noiz has seen on him before. It’s genuine. Nostalgic, maybe? Noiz has never felt nostalgia. But there’s some sort of emotion there that he can’t place. Noiz takes a few steps toward him and looks up.

            It’s Black Needle. He doesn’t know what that is, but the building looks like it needs more than just a little repairing. It’s dilapidated, literally falling apart. It was a – tattoo parlor and bar, Noiz surmises, from the advertisements on the outside walls. There’s a ton of tag art all over the front of it, so Noiz assumes it belonged to an old Rib team that disbanded.

            “This place used to mean so much to me,” Mizuki says, smile still in place. He blinks slowly and grins wider, like he’s thinking about something that Noiz will never understand.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah,” he shrugs. “It used to be my life.”

            Noiz studies his face. He’s remembering something. He’s having a memory of something. Or – no. He’s _trying_ to have a memory. It looks like he’s reaching into the deepest abscesses of his brain to retrieve something – something he desperately wishes he could remember but isn’t going to try to hard to recover.

            His face palls. It seems he found it.

            He turns to Noiz, expressionless. Noiz raises his eyebrows. He’s going to say something. Has he remembered something important? Is he going to tell Noiz something big? Has their friendship graduated to that sort of level out of nowhere? Mizuki opens his mouth:

            “How stupid is that?”

            Noiz falters. That’s not what he was expecting.

            Mizuki grins and grabs his arm.

            “Let’s go.”

            He takes Noiz back to the same building in the North District they were at a week ago, allowing him in first and down the stairs before him, telling him that he likes the view from behind. The bizarre compliment makes Noiz wince, as he’s never really dressed to impress sexually, and he can’t decide if Mizuki is horny or making fun of him. Shit, he hopes it’s the former. He really can’t take much more of Mizuki and Aoba’s humiliation.

            When he steps into their room, Aoba is standing at the foot of his bed, facing away from him. Noiz catches the quickest glimpse of his back – pale, lithe, but muscular. Shoulders that are somehow both soft and fleshy as well as ripped and hard. Noiz stops in his tracks at the sight just as Aoba slips his shirt on, and Mizuki runs into him.

            “Heh,” he laughs softly into Noiz’s ear. “You really have the biggest crush on him, don’t you?”

            Aoba turns around with an angry scowl. When he sees it’s only them, his face softens, but only a bit.

            “What are you doing here?”

            “He called,” Mizuki says, his fingers suddenly gripping Noiz’s shoulders tight. Noiz can only barely feel their presence. “He wanted to hang out.” Mizuki rests his cheek against Noiz’s head. “So come hang out with us.”

            “Don’t know why you want to come around here,” Aoba mutters as he crosses quickly to the bathroom. Noiz loves this. Noiz is _hanging out,_ not just at all, but with _Sly Blue._ And Sly Blue’s hot, slutty friend. But Noiz also hates this – he’s sick of being so submissive to their antics. He wants things, too. He wants to fuck them just as bad as Mizuki seems to want to fuck him. He wants to Rhyme Aoba – he wants to Rhyme Aoba so bad, and it didn’t work before, but maybe sucking his dick will help now. Now that Aoba can see how serious he is. _He wants to Rhyme and he will do anything to get it._

“Because you’re here,” he says quickly. Aoba stops mid-step and looks up at him with a confused smile. It’s daunting.

            “You want to hang out with me?” he asks. He’s asking Noiz, but not looking at him. He’s looking at Mizuki, who’s still cradled against Noiz’s body. Noiz is sure that he’s grinning his stupid fucking grin at Aoba, but he can’t tell for sure.

            “Yeah,” Noiz nods. Sometimes confidence confuses people. He usually gets what he wants just by intimidating people with his honesty.

            It doesn’t seem like that’s going to work on Aoba, though.

            “What about Mizuki?” he asks. “You called him just to get to me? Are you being rude to my friend?”

            Noiz shrugs.

            “What if I am?”

            Aoba doesn’t respond. He looks dark and dangerous and amused, and suddenly there’s a sharp nip at Noiz’s earlobe.

            “I’m heartbroken,” Mizuki murmurs, and Noiz shudders the tiniest bit. He tries to keep his façade up, staring at Aoba with a small smirk, even though he wants to pull away from Mizuki desperately. Well – he doesn’t exactly want to pull away. He likes the attention. He just wishes he were getting it from Aoba, too.

            He’d love to be in the middle of these two.

            “So do something about it,” he says. They both laugh as if they’re impressed and Noiz’s cock stirs.

            “There’s no need to get hateful,” Mizuki tells him. He finally starts to push him forward into the room and sits him down on the couch, and then follows suit. He beckons Aoba towards them and Noiz gets excited. Yes, please. Aoba. Come here. “Why don’t you bring us some beers?”

            Aoba rolls his eyes.

            “It’s three in the afternoon,” he says, but does what he’s told nonetheless. Noiz watches him sulk to the fridge and grab a few bottles as Mizuki puts his feet in Noiz’s lap. When Aoba makes his way back to the couch, Noiz notices Mizuki’s pulled something out of his pocket. He puts the object to his lips and Aoba grabs a lighter off the table on his way over and stands next to the couch, switches the lighter on, and holds it in front of Mizuki’s mouth.

            Oh. No shit. It’s a joint.

            Noiz knows enough about drugs, but again, he’s never really done any. He’s terrified of losing any more sensation in his skin than he already lacks, and anything that alters his motor skills would surely fuck with his condition. Still, if it’s anything like getting tipsy a week ago, maybe it’s not all that bad. And in any case, just a few hits wouldn’t do much damage, right?

            Mizuki inhales and then offers it to him. At the same time, Aoba thrusts a beer bottle in his face. He stares them both down: the drugs and the alcohol, all at once, and realizes this is a metaphor. It’s a shitty metaphor, and a metaphor for something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s a metaphor. Maybe it’s something like – Aoba and Mizuki are the weed and the alcohol, the things that Noiz has always heard the virtues of, but never really thought he’d get to try. The things that Noiz knows aren’t good for him, but might make him feel alive. Something stupid like that.

            He takes the joint and breathes in. It’s smoky, but not that bad. He hands it to Aoba and then takes the bottle from his hand, but notices a small smirk on his face.

            “What are you smiling for?”

            “You didn’t inhale, did you?”

            What does that mean? Of course he inhaled. Did he not just see it? Mizuki grabs Aoba’s waist and pulls him down onto the couch. It’s too small for three people, but Noiz’s heart starts racing. He’s dangerously close to getting what he wants, and that can’t be a good thing.

            “You sucked in but you didn’t inhale into your lungs,” Mizuki explains. “Have you ever smoked before?”

            Noiz stares at him and doesn’t answer.

            “Who cares?” Aoba asks, angry that Mizuki’s forced him into this position and shifting his weight around in Mizuki’s lap. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

            “I didn’t say he did,” Mizuki mutters, pinching Aoba’s arm. “But he’s a big boy. He can tell us if he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t have to do it just because we are. I assumed he wanted it.”

            “I did,” Noiz says, twisting the cap off the beer bottle with some difficulty and taking a long swig. He braces himself for it and thanks whatever higher power exists that he doesn’t retch like last time. Somehow he manages to keep it down, and that seems to be enough for Aoba. He rolls his eyes and puts his feet in Noiz’s lap too. Now there are four feet between Noiz’s legs and four eyes staring in his direction. He wishes he were the one in Aoba’s lap. He wouldn’t even mind being in Mizuki’s lap, really. He takes another sip of beer and tries to look away.

            “See?” Mizuki says into Aoba’s ear. “He’s fine.” Aoba shoulders him away angrily. Mizuki grins at Noiz for a split second and then looks back to Aoba. “Hey, by the way. Guess where I went today?”

            “Back to the orphanage?” Aoba asks. Noiz doesn’t know what that means, but something seems to snap inside Mizuki’s brain. He punches Aoba – _hard_ – right between the shoulders, and Aoba lurches forward in pain. Noiz catches him, his eyes wide as Mizuki shakes his fingers out from the recoil.

            “Shut the _fuck_ up, asshole!” he bellows, then grabs the collar of Aoba’s shirt and pulls him back into his lap. Noiz has no idea what to do. This is – weird. Aoba hardly seems to react to any of it, other than to wince and gasp and groan. “I’ll send _you_ to the hospital! I didn’t go jackshit near the orphanage, we went back to Black Needle.”

            Aoba is nestled against Mizuki’s chest, one eye closed in pain as he tries to struggle away from him. It was as if he was expecting him to react like this and didn’t care. It was as if Mizuki was pissed – for a moment. And then tried to cover that reaction up. Noiz is confused. He’s never seen people interact like this before.

            “You shouldn’t do that,” Aoba says quietly, reaching to rub the spot between his shoulders that Mizuki punched. “You know they don’t like that.”

            “I don’t _care_!” Mizuki shouts with a crazed smile. “ _Fuck_ them! Maybe I’ll go back, see how they like that. I’ll go back full-time.”

            Noiz wants to ask what they’re talking about, but he’s afraid to remind them he’s even still in the room.

            “Dude—”

            “Why did I even leave?” Mizuki says quietly; so quietly that Noiz can hardly hear him. The entire room goes soft and for the first time, Noiz feels some sort of humanity from them. Mizuki is staring at Aoba’s back, and Aoba pauses for a moment, his eyes awkwardly avoiding Noiz’s, before he turns his torso around and tries to put his arms around Mizuki. He’s hugging him. Aoba is hugging Mizuki. Awkwardly, but still – he’s hugging him.

            “Shut up, dude,” he says just as quietly as Mizuki. “Shut up. You’re here now.”

            Noiz feels like he’s sitting in on a conversation he’s not supposed to hear. They know he’s still here, right? He almost wants to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming, but he wouldn’t be able to feel it even if he’s not. He’s still here, he knows that. Mizuki’s eyes drift up slowly and when he finally looks at Noiz from over Aoba’s shoulder, he stops and stares at him for several seconds.

            Noiz is nervous. What’s he – doing?

            A slow smirk spreads across Mizuki’s face. Ah, yes. That’s the Mizuki that Noiz knows. Whatever that outburst was – it must be over now.

            Mizuki throws Aoba to the floor. He lands with a thud and a groan and then he does the same to Noiz and he lands on his side next to Aoba. Are they going to fuck? Is it finally happening?

            “Let’s play spin the bottle,” Mizuki says, grabbing an empty beer bottle that’s sticking out from under the couch as he slides down to the floor himself. He slams the bottle down on the carpet and spins it, but it doesn’t go far. Before Noiz can register what’s happening, Mizuki is on top of Aoba, who’s still writhing on the floor where Mizuki pushed him.

            Mizuki plants himself on Aoba’s hips, pulling him up by his shirt and moves right to making out – full-on making out, complete with sloppy tongue prying Aoba’s mouth open and sticking itself inside. Aoba struggles to break free as he grabs Mizuki’s hood and kisses him back a few times, as if to placate him. When Mizuki finally pulls away with a laugh, Aoba shoves him off roughly.

            “Stop it, you freak,” he mutters, finally sitting up and shaking his hair out. He’s telling him to stop, but he doesn’t really seem to care. “You always do this.”

            He does?

            Do they make out a lot?

            Do they have sex?

            Does Aoba have sex with Mizuki?

            “I’m just playing the game,” Mizuki tells him with amusement. “Spin the bottle, Aoba. Maybe you’ll get me.”

            “Good, then I can fuck you until you shut up,” he says. Mizuki giggles.

            “That’s against the rules.”

            “Fuck the rules,” Aoba says, standing up and rotating his head to work out the kinks in his back. “And fuck you. I’ll fuck you so hard you can’t get out of bed again.”

            Mizuki seems genuinely embarrassed for a moment. He pulls his legs in, almost like he’s imploding on himself, and looks away. Aoba’s fucked Mizuki before. Aoba’s fucked him so hard that he couldn’t get out of bed. Noiz is insanely jealous, but he doesn’t know whom of. He wants to be fucked by Aoba, but – he sees the appeal in fucking Mizuki so hard he finally shuts up for once. Mizuki turns back with a glint in his eye.

            “That was just as much fun as it was for you.”

            “Yeah,” Aoba scoffs, taking a seat on the couch again. “But I also get a day of peace away from you.”

            “Why would you want a whole day away from _me_?” Mizuki asks, but he’s looking at Noiz, not Aoba. He grins and Aoba picks up the game controller from the floor and turns the TV on. Noiz feels, yet again, like he wasn’t supposed to hear this conversation. “You wanna play spin the bottle, Noiz?”

            The console comes on and the TV lights up. Aoba is done. He’s not paying attention to them anymore. He’s dead to the world again, just like he was a week ago. But Noiz has the advantage this time – this time, he’s in front of him. Aoba can’t just ignore him.

            Noiz supposes that’s how he ends up on his back, his legs spread wide for Mizuki to place himself. The older boy has his hands in his hair, his tongue on his lips, and digs his erection deep against Noiz’s thigh. Noiz thinks he’s hard too by now, though he has no idea how long they’ve been making out. He only knows that just when he thinks Mizuki is going to start going harder, he pulls back and slows down. Just when he thinks Mizuki is about to fuck him, he kisses his neck gently instead. He seems confused as to why Noiz is hardly reacting to all his feather-light touches, and that must frustrate him, because he ends up biting sharply or pinching his skin. Noiz moans when he does that, and that seems to quell him for a few moments.

            Noiz isn’t going to tell him. He’s never going to tell him. Or Aoba. Either one of them. Neither of them is ever going to find out about his condition. Not because he thinks they’d do anything wrong. He’s surprisingly unworried of them taking advantage of him; he just doesn’t want them to think he’s different. They somehow so willingly let him come into their room and drink their beer and smoke their drugs, and Noiz isn’t ready to lose that yet. He’s not going to let them know he’s a freak. No way.

            Mizuki is hard-bodied and frenzied and Noiz had no idea how much he liked that until now. He’s almost insatiable, like he _has_ to have Noiz _now_ , and Noiz loves feeling this wanted. He loves feeling this attractive. Mizuki seems to want him in a way no one else ever has, like he’s not just trying to get his dick wet. He’s trying to get off, because Noiz makes him want to get off. Noiz wants to get off, too. He really hopes Aoba is watching. Maybe he’s hard, too. Noiz lets out a particularly loud moan as he grabs Mizuki’s hand and puts it on his dick, hoping it will get Aoba’s attention. Mizuki chuckles.

            “You sure are hard, aren’t you?” he says. “Just from making out? Are you that desperate?” Noiz looks him in the eyes and doesn’t answer. He _is_ that desperate, but he’s not going to tell him that. “You want me to jerk you off, Noiz? You want me to make you come?” Noiz keeps staring. “Or better than that, you want me to blow you? You wanna put your dick in my mouth and fuck my face until I swallow all your cum down, drop for drop? You wanna come on my face? In my hair?” He starts to stroke Noiz’s face as he speaks. “You want me to bend over and let you fuck my ass? Is that what you want?”

            Noiz bites his snakebite and looks up to the couch –

            Aoba’s gone.

            When did Aoba leave? Noiz is completely out of it, now. What’s the point, if Aoba isn’t here? He wanted Aoba to join in. This is bullshit.

            Mizuki sits up and Noiz glances at him. He notices that he’s lost Noiz’s attention, and he’s staring down at him curiously, almost angrily. He sneers at him and then grabs his dick.

            “Except you want _Aoba_ to bend over, don’t you?” he asks. Is he jealous? Is he actually jealous? Noiz can hardly feel his hand stroking him. “You want to fuck Aoba’s ass, don’t you? I’m not good enough?”

            Noiz can _definitely_ feel how hard he twists his dick then. He groans and arches his back into Mizuki’s hand.

            “I’ll fuck you,” he says. “If that’s what you want.”

            “I don’t need to be your second choice,” Mizuki laughs, letting go of him. “There are plenty of people here who I can fuck if I want to.” He stands up and kicks Noiz in the shin lightly. “Get up. I’ll walk you out.”

            He’ll – what?

            He’s walking Noiz out?

            Noiz shifts uncomfortably as he tries to stand up with his boner tenting pretty obviously in his pants. But then he notices that Mizuki’s leather pants are bulging too. If he’s turned on, and Noiz is turned on, why is he sending him away?

            Mizuki takes him upstairs and stands in the doorway as Noiz pauses just outside the building. He doesn’t really want to go.

            “You’re not my second choice,” he says finally. Mizuki watches him for a few seconds, and then smiles.

            “I don’t care if I am,” he says. “You’re the one with the crush. Not me.”

            Noiz frowns. He knows his preoccupation with Aoba is obvious. He didn’t realize it came across as anything serious, though. And –

            He’s kind of disappointed.

            He wants Mizuki to have a crush on him.

            “Anyway,” the older boy says, turning to go. “I’m gonna go find Aoba now. To take care of this. If you know what I mean.”

            There’s not a single thought in Noiz’s head as he trudges home slowly, and not a single one floats through as he sits on his couch for twenty straight minutes, staring at the floor. He’s not even really thinking when he decides to take care of his own erection; he just starts to knead himself mindlessly through his pants, undressing himself almost as frenziedly as Mizuki was earlier.

            When he does finally think of something, he has three fingers up his ass and his nails digging into the underside of his dick head. When something does finally pop into his mind, he’s already coming all over himself and his couch. When he finally does have a thought, it’s not of Aoba.

            It’s Mizuki.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba is soft. Aoba is intimidating but Aoba is gentle. Mizuki is the opposite. Mizuki is hard, literally and otherwise. And Noiz doesn't remember what he wanted from them in the first place anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **cw** holy shit guys like choking, daddy kink, aggressive sex -- all consensual, just rough and kinda weird. this is really NOT a happy fun time story (and this is sort of a tame version of what happens in my head LOL)  
> (edited to add: SHIT SORRY also noiz has a panic attack; there's bullying and flashbacks and all kinds of stuff like that so! idk how to warn properly im sorry)

            It’s been a month and a half since Noiz met Mizuki and Aoba and he’s worn a skirt three times.

            He’s gotten hard nine times, and he’s made out with Mizuki four times. He’s gotten drunk twice, high twice, and he’s had his hands tied behind his back as he got teased once – that was during one of the skirt times. He’s fucked them zero times, Rhymed them zero times, but been called a friend every single time they see each other, and that’s enough to make Noiz reevaluate his goals.

            It used to be about Rhyming Aoba. He still _wants_ to. He’d do anything to Rhyme him, really. But if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. He got something better: friendship. It makes him wretch to think that to himself, but it’s true. Mizuki and Aoba are his friends and all he has to do is sometimes dress up like a schoolgirl and let them laugh at him. But he’s laughing as well, so it’s all fine. Mizuki wore the outfit too, anyway. He just wasn’t tied to a chair and groped until he was so hard that he started to tear up, then left alone for half an hour while they other two played video games.

            But that’s okay; sometimes friends fuck with each other like that.

            And they like to fuck with Noiz a lot.

            That’s a sign that they’re _really_ good friends.

            They gang up on him in video games – well, they used to, but they stopped playing games together after Mizuki’s little outburst two weeks ago. The controller wasn’t working and he turned to Aoba and screamed, _“Join my fucking team!”_ and the two of them stared at each other for a full two minutes before Noiz waved his hand between them and brought them back from their trances. He still has no idea what that was about but Aoba suggested they shelve the video games for the time being, and Mizuki agreed.

            That just means that they watch TV and make out a lot instead.

            They gang up on him in real life too, which is how Noiz finds himself tied up so much, but he really doesn’t mind. He likes it. He only wishes they would finally finish him off one of these times. For as sexual as they get with him, they’ve never seen each other naked – well, they haven’t seen Noiz and Noiz hasn’t seen them. He knows they’re still fucking each other when he’s not around. But for whatever reason, Noiz realizes at this point that he has to be the one to initiate, so that’s what he does the next time he sees them.

            “You want to actually fuck?” Mizuki asks. Aoba’s tongue sticks out to poke around at his top lip but he rolls his eyes away in disinterest. Noiz watches him and then nods at them both.

            “I don’t see why not.”

            “Well, me neither,” Mizuki grins. “But – you know me. I need a lot of foreplay.”

            Noiz chooses not to point out that no – he doesn’t know Mizuki, not sexually anyway. So he couldn’t have known that. But he simply nods instead and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

            “So?” he asks. “Let’s foreplay.”

            Mizuki’s grin widens. Noiz starts to feel uneasy, but that’s pretty commonplace when he’s hanging out with these two.

            “Why don’t you two start first?”

            “Who said I wanted to fuck?” Aoba asks, but before Noiz can reply, Mizuki’s grabbing them both and shoving them into the bathroom and –

            Everything is dark. The lights are off and Aoba can’t get the door open. Mizuki’s jammed it and Noiz’s eyes widen. He can’t breathe. He’s stuck. He’s stuck in this tiny room. He’s been locked in this room. He’s locked up in this room with no windows and no bed and no kitchen and he can’t get out and he starts to breathe erratically. He did something wrong. And now he’s locked up.

            Aoba flips the light on in anger and starts pounding on the door. Noiz stumbles backwards and sits down on the closed toilet lid as he tries to find air again, but he can’t. Aoba is screaming at Mizuki to let them out, but Mizuki just keeps shouting, _“Seven minutes in heaven!”_ at the top of his lungs. Seven minutes? Is that a time limit? Noiz gets to come out in seven minutes? That _does_ sound heavenly. Now his punishments are on time limits, which must mean he’s been doing better. He’s been a better son, so now he only gets punished for a little bit instead of – indefinitely.

            He still hasn’t caught his breath by the time Aoba notices that something is not right.

            “Whoa… what’s wrong with you?” he asks as he turns to stare at him in defeat. His eyebrows rise up and he folds his arms over his chest as Noiz clutches the bathroom sink.

            “Do I get to leave?” Noiz asks. “Do I get to come out of the room in seven minutes?”

            Aoba doesn’t seem to know how to answer. That makes Noiz nervous and he gasps for air again.

            “Are you having a panic attack, dude?” Aoba asks. “It’s just Mizuki messing around with us. He’ll let us out. He probably just wants us to make out.”

            Make out?

            Mizuki wants Noiz and Aoba to make out?

            “That’s crazy because _I_ want us to make out too,” Noiz says nonchalantly. Aoba laughs and Noiz doesn’t know why. “What? I do.”

            Maybe it’s the sound of Aoba’s laugh or the way he saunters toward him so easily, but something starts to click in Noiz’s head. He’s not back in Germany. It’s not his parents who closed the door. It’s just Mizuki. He’s in a bathroom with Aoba and everything is fine.

            They’re just fucking with him. Like friends do.

            “Will making out calm you down?” Aoba asks, taking his hand and pulling him up off the toilet seat. Noiz licks his lips nervously and feels that final push back to reality as Aoba looks into his eyes the way that Noiz has been yearning for him to for the past two months.

            Aoba ends up sitting on the sink counter with Noiz standing between his legs, his hands on Aoba’s hips and kissing him _gently._ Far gentler than Mizuki kisses. It’s like Aoba actually doesn’t mind being here, and he doesn’t mind going slower. He’s not as crazed or fervent. He’s happy just to kiss Noiz for a minute or two, and their hands never wander. Noiz only gets hard because he’s finally getting what he’s wanted for so long. He’s out of the breath when Aoba pulls away and smirks at him, cradling his face in one hand and opening his mouth to speak:

            “You’re a lot softer than Mizuki is,” he says quietly and the words are like God himself just spoke and Noiz’s ears are ringing in pain and begging for more at the same time. He blinks slowly and kisses Aoba again, fully aware that he’s not some punk, street urchin like Mizuki; he’s actually kind of quiet and self-contained, like he’ll ruin your life in one look but uses the power only when he knows he needs to. He doesn’t look like he wants to ruin Noiz’s life. Not yet, anyway.

            He looks like he’s tried to ruin Mizuki’s several times, but somehow, it doesn’t work.

            “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” Noiz tells him, bordering dangerously on romantic. Aoba laughs.

            “I know.”

            Aoba keeps kissing him, his hands planted firmly on his shoulders. He tells Noiz that he likes it when the other person holds his waist, so Noiz’s grip tightens… until the door bursts open and Noiz turns around in shock to face two people he doesn’t know.

            They’re tall and blond and they must be twins or something because they look exactly alike. They don’t seem embarrassed about what they just walked in on; in fact, they grin at Noiz and nod politely just before the one in glasses sticks his hand out to Aoba and beckons him away.

            “We have to go, Aoba-san,” he says, and Aoba scowls at them but hops off the counter anyway. He doesn’t say goodbye – doesn’t even turn around to look at Noiz before he leaves – he just heads out the door and disappears and Noiz is too shocked to leave the bathroom. He just kissed Aoba Seragaki, and he doesn’t even remember what Rhyme is at the moment. This is all he’s ever wanted.

            When he does finally leave the bathroom, Mizuki is sulking on the loveseat, back to him, arms across his chest. Noiz makes his way over to him and notices he has a fat lip, blood dripping down his chin and onto his t-shirt.

            “What happened to you?”

            Mizuki turns away and scowls.

            “Tripped,” he mutters. “Why are you still here?”

            Noiz doesn’t know how to answer. It’s only been a minute or so since Aoba left. He looks up at the door at the top of the stairs.

            “You want me to leave?”

            Mizuki doesn’t answer. He almost seems like he wants to say no, but he doesn’t reply at all. He just scowls and looks away and Noiz senses that he might finally have the upper hand here for the first time ever.

            “Why do you hate those guys so much?” he asks. Those are the guys who always take Aoba away. They’re the guys Mizuki mentions he works for, but he never speaks highly of them. He’s fairly sure they’re responsible for Mizuki’s bloody lip, and Mizuki seems just vulnerable enough to tell him.

            “I don’t hate them,” Mizuki says, and then he sits up suddenly, like he’s remembered something. The air in the room changes, just like it did when he yelled at Aoba to join his team that day, or like the time they stared at each other on the couch just before playing spin the bottle. It’s like the time Noiz found him outside that old tattoo parlor, staring up at the sign like he used to go there. He isn’t the Mizuki that Noiz knows whatsoever right now, and – Noiz likes this Mizuki better.

            “I don’t hate them,” Mizuki repeats, his voice hollow as he stares at the floor. “I don’t hate them. I just…”

            Noiz watches his eyes dart around. They flit so fast that they look like they’re about to fly right out of their sockets. He’s trying to remember something, just like those other days. He’s reaching for a memory but he just can’t seem to stretch far enough.

            “Mizuki?”

            Mizuki’s head shoots up to him. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are slanted; he’s scared of something. Noiz swears the color of his irises start to change right then and there, but he must be dreaming – they’re back to their normal – actually, Noiz has no idea _what_ color Mizuki’s eyes are. They’re green, just like his, but also – red? Brown? He can’t tell at all.

            Mizuki grins at him, and he’s back.

            The Mizuki that Noiz knows is back.

            Too bad.

            It’s bizarre. Noiz has no idea what happens in these moments, but they make him wonder if he’s even real.

            “I don’t hate them,” Mizuki says. “They just never want to fuck when I’m horny.”

            Noiz furrows his brows. That can’t be it. They always come in and take Aoba away and Mizuki must be jealous in some way. Mizuki must have feelings for Aoba. Noiz is sure of it.

            “But –”

            “Are you hard, Noiz?” Mizuki asks, his eyes drawn to Noiz’s dick. Noiz bites his bottom lip and looks down – he is. He’s still hard from kissing Aoba and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s always _sex_ with Mizuki. Noiz wonders when he ever has time for anything else.

            “Yeah,” he nods. “I made out with Aoba before they came and took him.”

            Mizuki raises an eyebrow.

            “Well, congratulations,” he says sarcastically. “Too bad I’m not Aoba, but I’ll fuck you good if you want it.”

            That makes Noiz pause.

            Mizuki will fuck him if he wants.

            Noiz shuffles around where he stands. He puts his hands in his pockets and tries to feel his own dick. He’s really hard… and the idea of something inside of him right now…

            Noiz actually _really_ wants.

            “Sure,” he shrugs finally. “What are friends for?”

            “Aw,” Mizuki coos, standing up from the couch and immediately grabbing Noiz’s collar. “We’re friends?”

            Noiz doesn’t answer. Mizuki isn’t expecting him to. He says it so darkly and throws Noiz backwards towards the bed so quickly that Noiz can only trip onto it in response. He loops an arm around Mizuki’s head and he knows exactly what Aoba means now. Aoba is much softer than Mizuki, too. Mizuki is hard and dangerous. Aoba is too. He _must_ be dangerous. He’s sent so many people to the hospital. And he’s truly apathetic. But there’s something there. In his eyes. There’s something present inside Aoba, the way there’s something present in Mizuki in those moments of repose – but with Aoba, it’s always there.

            With Mizuki…

            “I can fuck you hard, Noiz,” Mizuki tells him, ripping open the buttons on his shirt. “Or I can fuck you soft. And slow. Sometimes that’s fun. But not really.” He laughs haughtily and slips Noiz’s tie off through his collar. “I love that you wear _ties_. So formal. So hot. Like I’m fucking a businessman. Here for a trip. Cheating on his wife. With _me._ Aw… isn’t that so romantic?”

            Noiz can’t keep up with him. He can’t reply and he can’t do anything but let Mizuki strip him slowly. First his shirt, then his tie… then his undershirt. Mizuki makes fun of him for the layers too, and then he finally gets to unbuttoning his pants and he’s already left at least three hickeys along his skin and Noiz doesn’t really want it to stop but he _can’t keep up and –_

“Whoa.”

            Mizuki unbuttons Noiz’s pants and pulls his briefs down to let his erection out and then he stops. It takes Noiz a second to understand why, because everything is going so fast that he doesn’t remember he’s never shown them his dick before so Mizuki didn’t know. He didn’t know it was pierced and the gears are turning over in Mizuki’s head as he looks down at it.

            “It’s pierced,” he says. He’s so genuinely shocked for a moment that Noiz can’t help but laugh. Mizuki’s silent. For once. For once in his Goddamn life.

            “You like it?”

            Mizuki smiles.

            Well, that was a nice, albeit brief moment of dominance.

            “Change of plans,” Mizuki says, sitting up on his knees and undoing his own pants. “You’re fucking me with that dick of yours. And you’re going to fuck me exactly like I tell you to, got it?”

            Huh. Maybe Noiz’s moment of dominance isn’t over.

            He licks his lips and sits up in the bed. _He_ gets to fuck Mizuki. _He_ gets to make Mizuki cry out and twist around and come from the metal in his dick. _He’ll_ be the one to humiliate Mizuki this time.

            He grabs Mizuki by his chin and shakes his head a little.

            “Got it.”

            Mizuki pulls his head away but nods.

            “Good,” he says, tugging his pants and briefs down as quickly as he can. “I like it when a guy dominates me. Keep doing that.”

            Something tells Noiz that no one has ever _really_ dominated Mizuki. But he’s sure willing to take a shot. He stares down at him, breathing heavily as he moves him up his bed, pulling the tightest pants he’s ever seen off his legs as he goes. All of Mizuki’s clothes eventually end up in a pile on the floor next to Noiz’s and then Noiz strokes his dick a few times to get him hard. They’re staring into each other’s eyes – not lovingly, but competitively. And Noiz is determined not to lose. He doesn’t even care if he wins. Just as long as he doesn’t lose.

            “Are you turned on by me? By my dick?” he asks. “You treat me like someone to throw around but really, you want me to throw _you_ around.”

            Mizuki laughs.

            “We wouldn’t throw you around if you didn’t let us so easily.”

            Noiz puts a hand on Mizuki’s chest and shoves him down to the bed forcefully. All the air flushes out of Mizuki’s body and he actually looks hurt.

            “You think I let you do it?”

            “Good,” Mizuki says, ignoring his question. “Put your hands around my throat.”

            Noiz doesn’t. Not yet.

            “I’ll choke you when I want to choke you,” he tells him, pushing his legs up and bending the older boy in half. “I’ll fuck you how I want to fuck you. And you’ll love it. Either get me lube in the next five seconds or go without it.”

            Mizuki grins and remains motionless for a moment, but eventually reaches over to the bedside table and points. Noiz leans over and opens the drawer, finding a bottle of lotion in there.

            “Is this all you have?”

            “It’s fine,” Mizuki says. “That’s what Aoba uses.”

            Noiz pauses. That’s right. Aoba fucks Mizuki. Aoba fucks him just to shut him up sometimes. And there is nothing in the world that Noiz wants to see more than Aoba fucking Mizuki to get him to _shut the hell up._

“Tell me about it,” Noiz says, pumping lotion onto his hand and coating his fingers. “Tell me about how Aoba fucks you.”

            “You just want to hear about Aoba,” Mizuki says, feigning sadness. He looks away and sighs. “You really have the biggest crush on him, don’t you?”

            Noiz grabs his chin and pulls him back. He’s getting genuinely tired of this.

            “Tell me now or I’ll gag you.”

            Mizuki smiles again.

            “Then maybe you should gag me.”

            Noiz knows he doesn’t have anything to gag him with, so instead of admitting Mizuki has the better of him in this situation, he shoves two lotion-coated fingers inside Mizuki’s ass at once. Mizuki gasps and recoils on the bed and Aoba is right. Seeing Mizuki get what he deserves is the most rewarding experience of Noiz’s short life.

            “Does Aoba fuck you until you can’t see straight?” he asks, twisting his fingers around. He’s not trying to hurt him, just open him quickly. Maybe a little roughly. “Does he make you scream until you can’t talk? Does he make you lose your voice? Or is it just that he does you so good that you’re speechless? You’re the kind of guy everyone wants to dominate, you know.”

            Mizuki giggles maniacally. Of course he does, of course he giggles at that, because that’s exactly the kind of thing someone like Mizuki would like to hear. He likes to know he’s getting to people so badly that they want nothing more than to get to _him._ Which is a coincidence, because that’s how Noiz used to feel about the elusive Sly Blue.

            But now Aoba is soft. Not exactly calming or friendly or stress-free. But soft.

            Mizuki wriggles below Noiz to remind him he’s there and Noiz finally puts his hand around his throat.

            “Stop moving.”

            “Harder.”

            “What?”

            “Press harder,” Mizuki says with a grin. His voice sounds pained already and his bottom half is still straining against Noiz’s probing fingers, but Noiz presses against his throat anyway. Very slightly and slowly of course. Experimentally. He’s never choked anyone during sex before but he’s not surprised that Mizuki would be his first.

            His grip tightens bit by bit and with each passing second, Mizuki only grins wider and strains harder, until he puts his own hands against Noiz’s to try to rip his hand off. Noiz refuses.

            “Too much?”

            Mizuki sputters a little and Noiz can feel his throat move against his palm. He shakes his head.

            “Then why are you trying to throw my hand off?”

            Mizuki finally starts to frown and Noiz notices his abdomen start to move faster as he’s breathing shallower and shallower and that’s when Noiz takes both hands away and Mizuki gasps for air. He whines at the loss of Noiz’s fingers in his ass but Noiz puts his dick at his entrance to make up for it.

            “Open enough?” he asks, but follows up before Mizuki can answer: “Not that I care.”

            He shoves in, causing Mizuki’s entire body to react. He slinks back against the headboard and screams much louder than Noiz was expecting – much louder than he needs to, Noiz suspects as well. So Mizuki is the kind of guy who likes to put on a show. That’s no surprise. Noiz pushes in as fast as he can without hurting Mizuki too much. It’s apparent that Mizuki likes a little pain, but Noiz isn’t going to be responsible for injuring him irreparably. Leave that for the two guys who took Aoba away. They seem more capable.

            “Aw,” Mizuki coos finally, his hands finding Noiz’s arms and rubbing him sensually. “Fuck me with your pierced dick, daddy. Put it in me and fuck me hard.”

            He’s infuriating. Noiz doesn’t know why, but it’s enraging just how submissive Mizuki acts. Maybe it’s because Noiz knows he’s anything but: it’s like Mizuki is making fun of him. Mizuki is acting like he’s subservient to him when they both know – and Aoba knows too – that Noiz is their fucking lapdog, ready to take any order they deign to give him. Mizuki even ordered Noiz to fuck him and look what he did. He fucked him. Immediately. Without question.

            He starts to pound into Mizuki mercilessly. He’s not going to let this end without giving Mizuki the best orgasm of his life – and trying to humiliate him at least a little bit.

            “You’re the dirtiest person I’ve ever met, you know that, Mizuki? You’re the kind of guy who doesn’t care where you get it, as long as you get it.”

            Mizuki nods wildly and laughs loudly. Well, it’s a half laugh, half porn star moan. Noiz keeps pounding into him.

            “Do you like this? Tell me you like it or I’ll stop.”

            “I love it, daddy!” he shouts. “Keep fucking me with your pierced dick! It’s the best dick I’ve ever had!”

            Noiz wants to slap him for a second. He knows he’s lying. That’s the worst part. They both do. Noiz starts to pant too hard to say much more, but Mizuki carries on moaning like he’s trying to get the people across the street to hear. Noiz wonders where those guys took Aoba. Are they near? Can they hear? Maybe Aoba will walk in and see how good Noiz is doing Mizuki and want his dick inside him, too. Yeah, Noiz can fantasize.

            Not that he really needs to, because he’s actually having a good time fucking Mizuki. And Mizuki’s face is actually starting to contort into some kind of genuine pleasure – as well as some kind of genuine embarrassment. Or something. There’s something else on his face, but Noiz can’t read what. Humility? Modesty? Something like that.

            “It’s – good,” Mizuki says eventually, and even his voice is filled with something different. Something honest, as if to imply he’s really telling the truth now and he wants Noiz to keep going. Noiz plans on doing that, but it’s still nice to know Mizuki actually likes it. “Keep – going – harder…

            Noiz is always nervous that he won’t be able to come when he tops, but Mizuki begs him to go so much harder that Noiz’s piercings catch and pull with each thrust. He’s almost worried one is going to rip out inside of Mizuki, but he’s not going to dwell on that. There are tiny pricks of pleasure all over his dick every time he pulls his hips back and if he focuses on that –

            Mizuki comes first, shouting, _“Oh,_ Daddy!” and pounding his fists against the sheets. But it’s the fact that his voice sounds deep and real when he cries out that sends Noiz to the edge. Mizuki is not just coming because there was metal up his ass; he’s coming because Noiz fucked him good and now Mizuki _feels good_ because of it.

            Noiz comes inside of him and pushes in a couple of times after his orgasm, just to watch his cum spread across Mizuki’s ass. Mizuki whimpers in embarrassment and it’s almost enough to convince Noiz to go for round two.

            He takes a deep breath and sits up, pulling his dick out of Mizuki and then using his blanket to wipe the semen off. He bites his bottom lip and looks down at Mizuki, a sweaty, fucked-out mess with cum staining his stomach and dripping out of his ass.

            That looks amazing.

            “So it was good for you?” Noiz asks sarcastically. He tosses Mizuki the blanket to clean himself up too and Mizuki has to breathe for a few more seconds before he can reply:

            “The best I’ve ever had,” he says with that same fucking grin he’s always had. “Don’t tell Aoba.”

            “I don’t think I have to. I’m sure you’ll tell him all about this.”

            Mizuki bites his bottom lip and Noiz knows that’s an agreement.

            “So, I’m – probably gonna shower. You can show yourself out, right?”

            …

            …What?

            Is Noiz getting thrown out? Already? Mizuki wants to talk normally after what they just did? Noiz sits around for hours when he comes around here and now suddenly Mizuki wants him gone?

            Noiz knows that looking upset or surprised is the worst thing he could do right now, though. Mizuki would have a field day. He shrugs and looks toward the door.

            “Y- yeah,” he nods. “Whatever.” Aoba is gone and – what does Mizuki have to do the rest of the day?

            What the hell.

            “I’ll call you later,” Mizuki says, an edge to his voice as he sits up and looks down to examine himself. “Thanks for the orgasm, _friend_.”

            Noiz is putting on his shirt when Mizuki says it, and it makes him freeze again.

            _Friend?_

That was it. That’s what Noiz has always wanted.

            He doesn’t know how to reply for a few seconds but eventually he says, “Wow,” as Mizuki is standing up and letting all the cum drip out of him and onto the floor. He can’t stop staring. “We’re friends?”

            Mizuki scoffs.

            “Of course we are,” he says. “Only friends dress up in skirts and let their friends bend them over their knee for a spanking.”

            Oh yeah. Noiz forgot he did that.

            His ears probably go red as he blushes at the memory. Not that he wouldn’t do it again if they asked. He fixes his clothes once they’re finally on and takes a few steps toward the door.

            “You think… Aoba considers me a friend?”

            Mizuki laughs. A genuine, full-bodied laugh.

            “I don’t think Aoba considers anyone a friend.”

            Noiz’s heart sinks.

            That’s not what he wanted.

            “You don’t think he’s interested in me at all?”

            “…I don’t think Aoba is interested in anyone, dude.”

            Noiz hesitates. Maybe Mizuki is lying. Aoba was so real and genuine when they were kissing. Aoba _has_ to feel something. Even if it’s just the slightest bit of affection. He must. He _must._ But Mizuki knows him best, so if Mizuki says he doesn’t, then there’s only one explanation:

            “Are you jealous that I’m so into Aoba?”

            Mizuki stops in his tracks and turns around to face him, his eyebrows high and his mouth smiling in incredulity. He laughs again and shakes his head.

            “What, you think I’m into _you?”_

“You seem jealous,” Noiz says. Mizuki is a liar. Aoba has _some_ sort of feeling for him and Mizuki is angry because _he does too._ “You always bring it up. That I’m interested in him. And you’re always trying to hook up with me. It seems like jealousy.”

            Mizuki shakes his head again and turns back to the bathroom.

            “Friends don’t get jealous of friends,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads toward the bathroom door. “I get horny and Aoba doesn’t. When we’re horny at the same time, that’s great, but most of the time, he waves me off. You seem just as horny as me. So it works out.” He finally reaches the door and turns around to look Noiz in the eyes again. He’s still completely naked and covered in cum and it’s the hottest thing Noiz has ever seen. “You’re both great for sex. But I’m not looking to get serious. Don’t you know that ruins friendships?”

            He turns into the bathroom and closes the door. Noiz hears the shower turn on so he turns around and goes upstairs and walks home alone.

            Of course. Of course neither of them want to get _serious_. That’s why Aoba acts like he doesn’t have feelings for Noiz. Their relationship is perfect where it is. Dating your friends is such a bad idea.

            And Noiz doesn’t want to do anything to ruin their perfect friendship.


End file.
